


the glass was kelly-green.

by Ohdotar



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: A little bit of blood, Everyone is bros, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Gen, Heimdall only sort-of, Hogun is cool, Jewelry, Magic, Merman Loki, Or not, Pirates, Sea, Sif and Thor are bros, The Little Mermaid rip-off, Thor Is Not Stupid, fishing weapons, like not the blood and there's actually nothing else to be graphic about, not very graphic, salmon is a good fish, shameless fluff, what is tagging help me?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-15 04:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5772076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohdotar/pseuds/Ohdotar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'If you would've had better aim, you would've hit the artery,' Hogun grunted to Volstagg and wiped his hands with a remotely clean towel. 'I'm glad you can't aim.'</p><p>Of course everyone has sometimes heard a tale or two about merfolk – mostly the more or less hidden meaning of those stories has always been that you should never hurt or anger those that dwell beneath the surface. You should not talk to them, and you most certainly shouldn't listen to them. They are fickle and untrustworthy when they're awake, and no one knows when they sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if this is really the thing to post as my first fic here, but since it's the only one currently complete so that I have the energy to translate it from Finnish to English, I decided to give it a go.  
> The style is closer to simplified storytelling than real good literature, but I wanted to try and keep that while having character development and other stuff too. And Sifki, of course.
> 
> I'd love to hear your opinions, and please do let me know if you spot a grammar mistake or a typo somewhere. (I'm more or less using the british spelling, sorry, 'cause that's the one I've learned in school.)

The blue waters of these southern seas glittered under the bright sun of noon and, when the night fell, they soon turned into a pitch-black hellish world of thunderstorms. In a world like that one quickly learned to know the smell of salty waves and the sounds of seabirds. Songs of freedom and the rumble of the sea were in every sailor's heart, and there was always some rum still left, even if on an occassion cannon-blasts could be heard. It was good to be careful around the screaming winds and sea-monsters while sailing across the seven seas.  
Raven was a real beauty. She was a sleek schooner with smooth, hard sides of gold – swift on the waves and just big enough to be a merchant vessel. She could employ a bigger crew too, but didn't require more than a handful to go. And a very honourable and proud ship she was, first and foremost, in spite of the harbours she would sometimes end up by the steering of her captain. On murkier waters it paid to keep your purse hidden.  
Naturally the crew was always led by the captain with his deep red coat on his shoulders. With his silver buckles and golden hair the man and his ship truly seemed to belong together like pieces of jewellery and he had a big smile. Then again, he also had fists no one wished to be the target of. Someone even claimed he could bend the storms to his will if he really wanted to. One of the three permanent crew members had a pint of beer or a bottle of rum with him as a rule. He enjoyed eating and drinking and singing and laughing, and his chestnut-red beard usually fell in happy curls. Nevertheless he could get angered easily. Another one was a charming blonde with a well-groomed moustache, a dashing swordsman and a skilled musician, and he made all ladies giggle if he only had the time. The third one was undoubtedly the wisest, a more reserved one, and with his dark eyes he kept watch over the rest of the crew. None dared to ask any stupid questions when he was around.  
The first mate held her head high while her ink-black hair flowed on her shoulders. She was beautiful, but you could see even from a distance that she was more than that. Despite her delicate face one really didn't want to provoke her into a fight because she was at least as fierce opponent as the worst pirates you'd ever meet. And with her was the last man of the crew, a pale and wiry fellow, who always went barefoot. Sometimes he limped so painfully that he had to ask for help. Still, even on such days when he couldn't walk by himself, he seemed to smirk like he knew an ancient secret or another. He never said a word – the poor lad was mute as a fish. But he sure played the flute in such a beautiful way that even the tougher sailors had to stop to listen for a while longer.

* * *

The summer sun didn't really differ from winter weather on these southern waters. As the sun shone from the bright blue skye and warmed the wooden deck of Raven, everybody had a while to rest and enjoy the weather and let the captain look into his maps with the mate. The sea was calm and hushed and it slapped gently against the ship's sides with a playful tone in its waves. Volstagg pulled his trousers upwards from where they tended to slide slightly when suddenly he saw something other than sunlight glint in the waves. A tail of silver-grey scales attracted his attention and he quickly strode to the bow of their boat. First Volstagg thought it had to have been a porpoise for how big and shining it was but if you had never seen a salmon in your life you would recognise his spotted tail.  
Little did he know, when he fetched the harpoon, what sort of a beast he had actually laid his eyes on.  
The fishing weapon flew swiftly to the water and hit its target beneath the surface. The sudden, violent twitch of the tail fin broke the waves and splashed salty water on Volstagg's face, and soon a rather loud shriek was heard. Quickly it turned into colourful swearing and at that point Volstagg was equally scared as the one he had hit. The cacophony gained attention soon enough and boots thumped on Raven's deck.

'Volstagg! _What_ in the name of the devil are you screaming there?' Thor hollered with a frown darkening his features. He was not amused, and didn't grow any more so when he peeked into the blue waves which were surprisingly quickly turning red. Nonetheless concern outweighed his irritation soon.  
'Man overboard, I think...! Fandral, Hogun, Sif, come on!' He shouted and started to help Volstagg pull the rope of the harpoon and the pale, slippery arms, so that the unlucky swimmer could be hoisted up from the tide. The work proved to be slightly harder and louder than anyone had anticipated and in the end it required the whole crew pulling and reaching out to help. The other wiggling end of the harpoon clearly didn't want to be lifted on the deck. Sharp, pained cursing that followed his lifting on the better side and the smacking sound of him hitting the deck was clearly a collection of the foulest swears you could hear on the seas.

The crew took a deep breath, but Thor's sigh was more than a little distressed at the sight before him. Still it was Hogun, who had begun his sailing from the secret gulfs and ports of far east during his much younger years, was the first from the five to take a step closer towards the one they had just saved. Silver-coloured salmon's tail rested against the inner side of the boat just as reddish gills disappeared into the pale skin. Black hair clung to narrow cheeks in wet curls, and so everyone had a chance to see that Volstagg truly did not hit a giant salmon but a merman, who was feeling deeply shocked and insulted from the sudden attack on his person. A heavy silence fell upon the crew and only the ship hummed silently with her deckboards creaking.

Loki was the name of the merman, and he rose to a more upwards position on his arms when Hogun crouched in front of him with as stoic expression as always. The sharp head of the harpoon had sunk uncomfortably into Loki's shoulder, and even if the help was welcome in this kind of situation he would've preferred to take it out by himself. Still something in the eyes of the stern-faced seaman made Loki stay still, silent and tense.  
'Well, Volstagg, we must enjoy the small things – at least you didn't sit on him,' Fandral grinned behing his blonde moustache and stayed a bit further away from the whole situation. Hogun grumbled something that sounded like 'shut up, Fandral' while he tried to pull the harpoon lightly. A little hitch in Loki's breathing was the only sign that the fishing tool in his shoulder might have hurt. Other than that he stayed put and let the dark-eyed sailor try to dislodge the harpoon.  
'I'll go and get something to stop the bleeding once you're finished,' Sif said after a while of watching the mess even though, as the first mate, she could have told Volstagg or Fandral to do it. She gave her red hat to Thor when she left and he nodded silently. Hogun knew what he was doing and the merman seemed to understand it too – despite the fact that the man with the most medical experience on board was also a very grim and matter-of-fact type person. Thor, the captain, felt himself slightly worried as he watched the man with a salmon-tail, whose bleeding shoulder was by that moment starting to make the deck of his ship rather messy and splotched with red and black.  
Of course everyone has sometimes heard a tale about merfolk – mostly the more or less hidden meaning of those stories has always been that you should never hurt or anger those that dwell beneath the surface. You should not talk to them, and you most certainly shouldn't listen to them, if you didn't want to end up in the sea in one way or another.

When Sif returned with the bandages, the harpoon had already come off and the flow of blood from the wound was starting to slow down somewhat. Loki himself had managed to turn into a slightly more human and comfortable sitting position and didn't look quite so shaken anymore. Of course he didn't exactly look happy, either, when he visibly gritted his teeth and breathed slowly through his nose, looking at the wood beneath him as his chest rose and fell in an irregular rhythm. Hogun made room for Sif but glared at Volstagg when he rose.  
'If you would've had better aim, you would've hit the artery,' he grunted and wiped his hands with a remotely clean towel. 'I'm glad you can't aim,' he added and made Volstagg roll his eyes. Even if Fandral was still having a laugh at Volstagg behind the captain, the situation was starting to settle down. Sif crouched in front of the merman and started to bind his shoulder with the dressings. She was not aware of how carefully Loki's pale eyes were following her expression and hands. He even smiled slightly as a secret 'thank you'.

In truth Loki had already been following Raven for a few weeks, swimming behind the ship and observing the crew closely. Perhaps it was more than a little foolhardy but the constant battle against the vast ocean was absolutely hilarious to him and he had, every now and then, toyed with the idea of saying something to the land-dwellers he had now seen on more than one occassion. He had been curious. Still, he would have never guessed that would end up on the deck of the golden schooner himself – let alone having a fist-sized hook jammed in his shoulder with no reason. When Sif stood up with a few stray locks of her black hair falling from her high ponytail, Loki was forced to cut his thoughts short and realise that he was looking the captain straight in the eyes.  
  
'Listen, fish. Based on your earlier trashing, you can talk. Can you understand me?' Thor asked, lowering his voice slightly and raising his brows. What no one expected, was the long silent stare and even less so the amused bark of laughter that followed.  
  
'I hope you are not being serious,' Loki said, and the words were so smooth and polished that it was almost unrecognisable from the previous cursing and screaming. Still, his voice had an edge to it. Something rough and sharp beneath the soft surface.  
'For if you were being completely sincere while asking that, I'm going to be rather offended and, as you can surely see, I am already slightly more offended than usual,' he continued. Even though his expression was visibly calm and still, there was a certain theatrical proudness in his demeanor. Someone better versed in the ways of merfolk would've known that it was very usual and would not have blamed Loki for this behaviour. Thor was not that someone, but he sighed very deep and tried to let it slide.  
'Well, excuse me,' the blonde captain scoffed and tried not to roll his eyes. 'I am Thor, the Serpent-slayer and the captain of Raven, and I'd very much like to know why on earth you are preying around my ship like a hungry shark,' he said and kept his eyes on Loki and his spotted salmon's tail. It swung once, or actually jerked because of the tense situation, but for a while neither said a thing.  
'Call me Loki. A pleasure to meet you,' Loki introduced himself with a sharp smile, even though the tone of his voice made it apparent that pleasure was quite far from this meeting. 'And I would like to know why on earth you sail on such a mindless course. Are you looking for something or is your compass broken?' he asked with a feigned politeness. Again, someone better versed in the ways of merfolk would've also known that they were very skilled with their words and preferred to avoid answering direct questions. In addition to that Loki was exceptionally clever and knew how best to use it to his advantage – whether it being for fun or to gain something.  
'Why, I simply had to see when you would hit your next reef.'

* * *

'Thor, don't be stupid...' Volstagg groaned, while still keeping his voice hushed.  
'We don't have a choice, you heard what that... what he said,' Thor said in response, while glancing over his shoulder to the starboard side of the ship where Loki sat leaning against the side. Sif was keeping watch over him from where she sat a little bit further away.  
'He will betray this strange trust. I hope you know that... Thor, really, you don't make deals with merfolk,' Fandral hissed even though he knew that Thor's decisions couldn't be changed. 'Of course, I _would_ agree to a discussion if the case here was really a beautiful, curvy mermai-'  
'Fandral, shut up,' Hogun growled, growing tired of Fandral's daydreams. 'Thor is right. We lose nothing, and this is the only option. Only merfolk knows the sea and the storms.'  
'And if we stay in good terms with him, he might even be willing to help us.'

Sif seemed to keep her eyes trained on the book she was browsing but was in truth watching the silver-coloured scales and the reflection of sunshine in them. She knew that the merman saw it too since just as well Loki was pretending to look at the blue skies and white clouds above, even though his eyes occasionally drifted to her direction.  
'You're not going to go away in a while, are you,' she stated blandly, causing Loki to tilt his head slightly.  
'Surely I would be mad if I wished to swim with only one arm,' he answered, trying to hold back a small, amused grin.  
'Don't act like you're stupid,' Sif said and turned a page. She knew that merfolk were said to be very cunning, and did not really like word games herself. From the corner of her eye she saw Loki's sharp smile when it at last spread his thin lips.  
'Based on what your friends are talking over there, my company will not at least be harmful to your voyages,' the mermain said with a self-satisfied tone in his voice. 'I am sure that we will get along well, eventually,' he added and his smile widened for a moment. Sif sighed through her nose and rolled her eyes without bothering to concentrate on how much Loki already seemed to like her. Maybe she didn't realise, maybe Loki didn't realise it himself.  
When the pain in his shoulder was starting to subside and turn into a dull throb the mermaid had more room to think about his situation. Just as his curiosity towards the rest of the crew was starting to be satisfied – he was a little disappointed, really, to see that he didn't like them very much – it rose in higher waves when captain Thor's proud and beautiful first mate was in question. He rarely saw women on the ships earth-dwellers used to sail the seas, but, even among those few he had seen, Sif seemed like a very intriquing one indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if this is really the thing to post as my first fic here, but since it's the only one currently complete, so that I have the energy to translate it from Finnish to English, I decided to give it a go.  
> The style is closer to simplified storytelling than real good literature, but I wanted to try and keep that while having character development and other stuff too. And Sifki, of course.
> 
> I'd love to hear your opinions, and please let me know if you spot a grammar mistake or a typo somewhere. (I'm more or less using the british spelling, sorry, 'cause that's the one I've learned in school.)


	2. Songs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some talking, some mistrust and a little singing too.

The sun was a blazing red shield of light down where the pale sky rose like a roof from the ocean. Seabirds screamed in the distance and the morning light made the high waves glitter like an armful of green gemstones, the glitter of which you could've stared forever. Beneath the shining surface, however, it was dark and under the deep waters lay countless wonders that human eye would never see. Everything down there, from valleys filled with pearls like gravel to deep gorges and caverns and fields of seagrass where kelpies would graze, could only be seen if one really lived in the deep with them. Still, the beauty of morning's red light never reached the bottom and every sunrise was slightly different. To see those Loki often swam to the surface when the sun was rising in the east. And oh boy, wasn't that exciting. Especially when the winds were hard, bordering on stormy.

The first time Loki ever saw captain Thor and his shining ship was one of those mornings. With his spotted tail neatly folded on a rock, the black-haired merman sat watching the bright rising sun and the waves that sweeped past him. A joyful grin spread his thin lips as salty drops of sea water rained on Loki's cheeks. But in a matter of moments the glimmering of the waves changed.  
You and me, we would never probably even have noticed such a change, but merfolk, they know currents just as well as those that live on the land can feel earthquakes and howling winds. Loki was no exception and he frowned slightly while he wondered about the situation. His black curls became wet again when he dived into the water to get a better picture of what was happening. The tide turned, telling its news, and soon a ship's keel broke the waves further away.  
Loki swam closer, staying close to the surface and letting the seafoam sweep over his head. That was when he first caught a glimpse of Raven and her crew. The stout, blonde captain yelled something from the ship's wheel and Loki knew outright that he had something very few men of the earth and soil usually posessed. There was no fear of blasting winds or the endless deep. It was clear, without doubt, that the weather and the seas were only a challenge to the man, only opponents to be won. He had a strong spirit. Stupid, yes, and foolish, but also rather admirable.  
When the shouting went on, however, Loki found his attention turning to a flash of movement beside the captain. The black waves of hair were tied away, but a few loose strands still escaped to flutter in front of her face when she screamed back at the captain, with at least as loudly as he did. Against the gloomy skies she looked like white pearls and black ink and her red shirt billowed in the wind like the fins of the most ridiculously beautiful reef-fish. Three men further down on the deck were pulling at the ropes of the sails and seemed very nervous. Only after a while Loki truly realised, what had the sailors so worried. They were way too close to the rocks where he sat only a while ago and were clearly unable to change their course.

That morning Thor had had the unfortunate opportunity to wake up with Fandral screaming in his ear: "Captain...! Thor! Thor wake up, Hogun says we're heading towards a skerry! She'll hit it soon and then we're going to have a hole in her side!"  
He had got up as swiftly as he could, pulled his boots back on and his red coat over his shoulders, before scrambling out of his cramped cabin. He had to be quick, he always had to, because you could never trust the sea to stay calm.  
"Sif! What in the name of Devil is happening?" he yelled as he ran from his cabin to where the first mate tried to change their course. Wet wood creaked and the wind screamed against the canvas of the sails, so Sif said nothing before Thor was standing by her side. She turned quickly to give him an ugly glare but didn't let go of the wheel. For a while they stood in the wheezing wind and rain, staring at each other.  
"I left you in charge and soon we're going to be shipwrecked in the middle of nowhere. And those rocks can be seen as clear as the damned daylight," he snarled. Sif raised her chin and knew that Thor had no reason to blame the oncoming accident on her.  
"You also left Volstagg to keep watch – that man cannot see the difference between a whale and a palm-tree!" she bit out back to him. "Thank the heavens that Hogun woke up. And if you'd like to take care of this riptide by yourself, then be my guest!"  
It was not yet stormy, in the worse sense of the word, but the current did a nasty criss-cross around the harsh cliff that stuck slightly too little out from the water that it could be constantly visible. Sunrays seemed to set the green sea on fire, and the waves washed against the sides of Thor's ship. The crew never got to know how lucky they were in that moment.

Mermen have the skill to bend the ways of the waters to their will and harness the tempests to do their bidding. Perhaps it's a magic of a kind, who knows. Perhaps it's only a wish with a slightly bigger chance of coming true than our ordinary pleas. However it may be, Loki had his part in the job well done, after which the whole crew sighed in relief. He did hear and see all that hapened on the deck and couldn't help meddling with the situation a little - only out of curiosity, really. Even if people say all kinds of things, merfolk have feelings too. Loki had always felt curiosity very strongly, though the power to change the course of things and a little bit of mischief were also preferable to him. So, when he saw the trouble the land-dwelling people had landed themselves in, he dove deep into the water, down towards the root of an ancient island of which nowadays only remained a few rocky peaks above the waves. The heavy wall of rock rose all the way up to the surface behind Loki's back when he finally turned around to look up at the ship rocking on the waves. It took a while, but eventually the swell turned in tune with his spotted tail. Added to the hard work of Raven's crew, Loki's wish was enough to help the ship on another course.

* * *

In those gone weeks no one would have guessed that the present night would end up falling as follows. The gentle wind blew hardly at all and the waves rocked the ship in silence, while a red sunset coloured the western sky. Hogun frowned, lighting up lanterns on the deck for the night. When the oil hissed into a flickering flame he closed the lantern and moved up to the next one. 

On a normal evening Fandral would have surely fetched his small vihuela guitar already and begun to sing, while Sif and Thor would have discussed the next step of their voyage. Volstagg would have done his best to put together a proper dinner, whereas Hogun would have been content with watching the dark sea and listening to its songs.  
Well, clearly this night was not a normal one, as there was a wet stain of seawater next to the mast, and in it sat a relatively proud and conceited merman. Loki had a narrow face, high cheekbones and pale green eyes, the sharp gaze of which seemed to fit better to the icy bays of the North than these warm waves. Stranger, however, was still his way of talking and grinning nonchalantly. It was as if he knew an unspeakable secret no one else had any clue about.

"...why on earth are you even a salmon like that? Don't you merfolk usually sport a little more colours - and frills - and whatnot?" Volstagg asked, giving a slightly mistrustful glare at the merman and his tail from a safe distance. He trusted the creature approximately the same amount as he did a Caribbean huxter, which, of course, was only wise. You can never be quite sure when it comes to merfolk, and how they are planning to drag you to the depths of the ocean with them. Loki, however, was not wearing an expression that could exactly be called pleased. He surely wasn't a fish, and a question like Volstagg's could be taken as an insult. The slight tensing of his features was visible and Fandral cleared his throat, elbowing Volstagg in the side. Loki lifted his chin slightly and took his sweet time before actually feeling like granting them with an answer.  
"Well, back when I was still rather small, my great beloved mother used to claim that her father's mother's sister would have been a genuine selkie. A feisty seal-bride of the North, if you've ever heard of her kin," he spoke, lifting one corner of his mouth upwards and crossing his narrow, wiry arms proudly on his chest. Even though he clearly saw that no one was understanding quite how much something like selkie ancestry could mean to merfolk, it didn't seem to bother him. Sif was looking at his smirk with a light frown but could not deny the fact that a chance as odd as this was worth taking. Few could say they had sat down for a chat with a merman and lived, not to mention that even mermaids were the topic of many horror stories, while they were generally thought calmer and more serene than their male kin.  
"Great-great-aunt lived far from here. On the rocky shores of Shetland. And they say she was such a sight that both land-dwelling sailors and her own people of the waves were all racing each other to court her for their own, year after year," Loki smiled and his tail gave a slight amused twitch.  
"And she sang more beautifully than anyone on those isles and shores. Even women would listen to her songs, bewitched," he added and glanced at Sif from under his brow, his grin deepening slightly. She huffed and shook her head, but kept her gaze firmly on Loki and lifted her own brows with a small smile.  
"Sounds nice. I do like songs," Sif said and shrugged. Loki cocked his head to the side - it was obviously not a reaction that he had anticipated - but whatever he saw seemed to amuse him. His sharp smile was clearly a challenge, and, as the staring contest netween the fair first mate and the salmon-tailed young man began to stretch, Volstagg saw it fit to cough loudly.  
"My apologies," Loki said and leaned back, without actually meaning what he said, "A selkie can drop her seal coat if she so wishes and choose the life on land - or just stretch her legs for a while. Great-great-aunt did so, and fell in love with a fisherman. They had a daughter and a son, and then she went back to the sea... Personally, of course, I've never been that far North. I have never seen Shetland, or the isles of the Danish coast. So, I cannot promise what I told you was true," he said and let Sif from under his lichen-coloured gaze.  
"What is true, however, is that me and my brothers are indeed slightly different from the others I have met in these tides," Loki admitted. That seemed to be the end of the small tall tale, and quickly Loki's attention snapped from his audience of three people to approaching Thor and Hogun. Loki sat a little straighter, but had to still look up from where he was seated, which he most certainly did not appreciate. The captain's steady, strong demeanor attracted attention easily, and wouldn't have needed any emphasising, if Loki would have had a say in the matter.  
"I am glad to see that you're all getting along," Thor said, his deep voice rumbling slightly either from laughter or annoyance, and he shot a sharp look at Loki. The merman knew exactly what kind of question and accusation he was being charged with, but he barely shrugged.  
"We have to, do we not? I must stay sitting here until the wound you have caused has healed enough to be swam with," he replied with a cool and controlled voice. Thor sighed, resisting rolling his eyes, and couldn't decide quite what to say. For a while it was silent, and only the ship creaked carefully with the shy waves sloshing against her sides. The evening sun was already making room for the starry night sky, and perhaps there was nothing to be said at all. Thor nodded slightly and sat down, Loki relaxed ever so little, and even Hogun took to leaning against Raven's side. It was a good moment.

"Well, mermaid, sing us a song. It's about time we got some entertainment to this night," Fandral laughed, picking his guitar from atop an idle coil of rope. The moment broke so quickly it could almost be felt in the air. It should not need mentioning to realise that everything in the request was very impolite and far from correct, so it should also come as no surprise that Loki was quickly sitting up, more tense than before, while trying to gain as much height as was possible. His tail slapped against the deck loudly - he was appalled and insulted.  
"How dare you spit something like that to me?" he snapped. Thor gave Fandral an angry look and Sif stood up swiftly. However clumsy moving on a dry surface with the tail of a salmon was, no one wanted to take any unnecessary risks. And Loki did seem to be about ready to attack Fandral on the spot.  
"That is enough", Hogun grunted with his own unwavering voice and took a step closer. Fandral stared at Loki for a moment, confused, but thought it better to just give up and laugh. Loki didn't smile.  
"Let's not make this more complicated than it needs to be. I just though that merfolk," emphasis on folk, "liked singing and music. And from what you said I gathered that it runs in your blood," Fandral shrugged. The merman gave him a scowl before turning his eyes out towards the darkening sea.  
"You had better not believe everything you hear on the seas."

* * *

It started quiet and slow, more like speaking or reciting a poem, disappearing in between the sound of waves.

 _» When the summertime has come_  
_and the trees are sweetly blooming_  
_and the wild mountain thyme_  
_grows around the purple heather;_  
_Will you go, lassie, go? »_

Despite the uncomfortable start, in the end it did happen so that a song by a child of the seas was heard on Raven's deck. The lantern had already went out once or twice and the melody Fandral played had slowed down to a more peaceful tune - sounds from North and further up North, where elvenfolk and unicorns ran across emerald hills and rugged highlands, and where silence was cut by the sound of bagpipes.

 _» And we'll all go together_  
_to pull wild mountain thyme_  
_all around the blooming heather;_  
_Will you go, lassie, go? »_

Loki sang and the others were silent. It heartened him, and while he did not appreciate being bluntly told to sing, called a fish or a mermaid, or being pointed at, he did enjoy music. It didn't even have to be perfectly in tune or performed by a great choir - he knew he could outdo many if he so wished - and he liked singing. His spotted tail had gently begun tapping the wood of the deck in tune with Fandrals humming already a while before.

 _» I will range through the wilds_  
_and the deep glens so dreary_  
_and return with their spoils_  
_to the bower of my dearie;_  
_Will you go, lassie, go? »_

It is debatable, whether or not Loki had ever actually seen flowers of the mountains or ranged through wilds and glens. It did not matter though, because he could sing. And he could sing better than you can imagine - at that moment he could have probably claimed to be a god and sound entirely believable.  
Even when Fandral stopped playing the merman's voice seemed to fill the air. It filled the minds of those listening, slithered softly in between thoughts and feelings, and rang somewhere in the back of one's head for a long time. Sif was the first one to retire for the night, with no more than a silent nod to the men. Loki kept looking at her when she went. Thor sat silentlty, seemingly on his way to slumber, but listened nevertheless. 

_» If my true love she'll not come_  
_could I surely find another_  
_where the wild mountain thyme_  
_grows around the blooming heather;_  
_Will you go, lassie, go? »_

With the song's end all grew silent. Fandral and Hogun got up and went shortly after Sif.  
"I'll keep watch," Volstagg told Thor under his breath, and the captain didn't feel like disagreeing. Watching a merman sit on a ship's dry deck, while it was already dark, could prove to be rather pointless, but Volstagg seemed to think it important. Not that the red-bearded man would have been at all concerned for the merman, but more because of him. He knew they were a crafty sort, merfolk. Whatever it had been that he was waiting to see did not happen. Loki sat in silence, seemingly indifferent to the harpoon which was again pointed in his general direction.  
Volstagg fell asleep before Loki did and woke up only after he had already done so. Or perhaps the fish had not slept at all.

When Volstagg got up to think about the possible breakfast options he heard a dragging sound from where he had been sitting, keeping watch over the creature. He stopped in his tracks and turned back around to see what sort of schemes were at play. But nothing really happened, and Volstagg was left frowning at Loki. The merman stared back from where he had managed to climb on the edge of the ship's side, with at least as sour expression as Volstagg's was. Soon the glare melted into a sharp grin and Loki let himself fall backwards overboard.  
Volstagg swore as he stormed after, leaning over the edge to look into the waves and see where the slippery merman had went, but he couldn't see more a glimpse of the shining scales and spots of his tail. He huffed and ran a nervous hand through his beard. It was difficult to decide whether to be worried or relieved that Loki was out of his hair for the time being. Perhaps it was best to be a little bit of both.  
No one asked about the incident when they set their course towards New-Providence and the port of Nassau. Wild-eyed mermen were not the biggest problem on those waters, where untrustworthy pirates could end up causing real trouble. Nothing like the relatively well-mannered crew of Thor's Raven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about my general slowness. This is going to be like, what, five chapters? Or something. Still going to be a longer story than those that have thirty chapters, oops.  
> Please, let me tell you what you think, and please point out spelling and/or grammar problems if you spot them! 
> 
> The history, exact lyrics and country of origin for the folk song called "Wild Mountain Thyme" or "Blooming Heather" or "Will Ye Go Lassie Go" are a popular topic for debate. For the purpose of this story, let's call [the tune](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=On9VqQsUA4U) an old, scottish-irish one.  
> 


	3. Stones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smiles and stones,  
> and storms that might just break your bones.

Over the course of the following weeks Loki formed a habit of swimmimg closer to the shores than he had before. He, of course, would have claimed that it was only for fun, and insisted so well that he almost had himself fooled. Naturally the turquoise light of shallow waters shone upon many wonderful things. He swam wide and far to explore underwater caves, islands, coral reefs and the secrets of the sloping cliffs beneath them, but also kept his eyes on the surface, seeking for shadows lest he miss the familiar vessel gliding by. Curiosity may not always have been a positive element of his personality, but it was a feeling that had his fins and fingertips itching from excitement until it was sated. Loki had never liked dissatisfaction, so he tried to prevent it in all ways he could. And right then preventing it meant surfacing.

The first few times Sif thought that she only imagined the splashing water and silver scales, so she didn't pay much mind to it. It took enough of her focus to just sail away from the scattered shoreline to open waters, and with a good, or remarkably bad, chance the meeting with merfolk happened only once or twice in a lifetime. However, when one morning dawned with soft humming of a song, and it was a shanty Sif knew, the flashes she had seen of a spotted tail were no longer imagination.

_»I though I heard the old man say_  
_'Leave her Johnny, leave her!_  
_Tomorrow you will get your pay,_  
_And it's time for us to leave her.’»_

She walked towards the bow of the schooner and looked over the ship's edge. Her black hair was left untied, because the weather was been gentle for now, but the agle of her brow was steep. Sif couldn't understand why a harpooned merman would return to them, unless he had less-than-pleasant intentions - Thor said that he had made a bargain of some sort, but it was unlikely to bring the merman to them so soon. On the other hand, Sif was not as suspicious as Volstagg was, thus not so keeen on believing that Loki's only goal in life was to make their lives difficult. The crease between her brows smoothed out when she saw the pale of Loki's back surface again. It did look fun, seeing the young salmon-tailed man diving around their ship like a happy dolphin.  
”You sing well,” she called out to the waves, curious as to what would be the answer. She was a curious soul as well, liked adventures, and liked stories. All she got in return was a short, wide laugh when Loki heard the compliment. Sif smiled as well when he sang a little louder.

_»Leave her Johnny, leave her,_  
_Oh leave her, Johnny, leave her!_  
_The voyage is long and the winds don't blow,_  
_And it's time for us to leave her.»_

Loki swam closer to the Raven with a happy grin. Without further hesitation or fooling around he grabbed the arm Sif extended towards him, and with her support and that of the ship's lines he lifted himself up on the deck with relative elegance. Sif wiped her hands dry on the hem of her shirt and raised her brows at the merman, who seemed to think it fit to just sit down and lie back as comfortably as he could. His pale green eyes met hers, he smiled a little, and then shut his eyes from the bright morning light.  
Sif couldn't say what he was thinking, but then again very few people could. She shrugged to herself and went back to looking at the sea, leaning on the lines. Sooner or later Loki resumed his song with an amused tone.

_»I hate to sail on this rotten tub,_  
_’Leave her, Johnny, Leave her!’_  
_And the winds were foul and worse the grub,_  
_’And it's time for us to leave her.’»_

”Are you singing to insult our ship?” Sif asked bluntly. She hid her growing smile from the merman as he sang.  
”No. It just so happens to be the next verse,” Loki answered, and knew well that it wasn't really an answer at all. His smug grin was both visible and audible to Sif. The song continued, Loki turned his tail and then untied a chain of colourful gemstones from around his neck. The wet sound of scales against the deck boards made Sif turn her eyes back towards him, and he snagged the gems from the thread to roll them around in his hands. The small, unpolished stone shone in the sun, and with nothing better to do Sif sat down on a thick coil of rope. It was fun enough to observe him and wonder about his thougths, but even in broad daylight, in the safety of the sunlit deck, Sif had to admit that there was something a little unsettling in Loki's song. It made the bottom of her stomach jump like it did when storm rocked the ship.  
The greatest magic of sirens and selkies alike was in their voice, even if Sif couldn't remember it then. And even though Loki wasn't trying anything - save for pleasing his small audience, perhaps - his voice made Sif forget where she was.

_»Leave her, Johnny, leave her,_  
_Oh leave her, Johnny, leave her!_  
_For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow,_  
_And it's time for us to leave her.»_

Loki's voice reminded Sif of the sea, for lack of better description. It was not bright and high, nor was it deep or dark, and yet it was a a little bit of both. Soft and hoarse and warm and cool, and waving gently in between all that in a rhythm that made following one's own thoughts impossible. So sif sat in silence, looking at the little gems skipping in Loki's fingers and listening to his voice. When the song ended she frowned, disappointed and feeling like someone had just dumped a bucket of cold water on her head. She frowned again when she realised her own reaction, as the buzzing feeling receded.  
”What did you do?” Sif demanded quietly, sitting up straighter. Loki lifted a brow, but didn't look up from his treasures anymore. He didn't want to admit to taking insult from her enquiry even when he felt his smile dying out.  
”I sang. I thought you liked it,” he said and threw a white pearl at her. Sif caught it easily in her hand, and it was very beautiful, but she wasn't feeling any more at ease. She felt like she'd been played in some way.  
”...I did like it,” Sif admitted, but cleared her throat and stared at him just as suspiciously she had for a moment before. Loki let out a long, silent sigh and glanced at her, but she hid her thoughts well behind the stern expression.  
”I could perhaps sing less in the future,” he said, and Sif found herself unable to look at his insincerely sincere expression with anger any longer. With the wind curling his hair and the way he raised his brows made Loki's narrow face appear much younger than before.  
”I thought you said you didn't even like singing,” Sif pointed out. Loki scoffed, and she saw a light blush creeping up his pale chest. He fell silent for a moment and his expression faded to a cool and blank stare. A bright red gemstone flew on Sif's lap. It was followed by a smooth green one.  
”I will sing if I want to,” Loki told her after a while of silence, before turning around and push off onto the side of the schooner that shone like gold in the sunshine. For a moment they looked at each other and Loki tilted his head. Sif hid the gifts in her palm.  
”Well, thank you, Loki. For these and for singing to me,” she said in a bit softer way that time. She didn't want to insult him for nothing, legs or tail, and he was intriguing. Luckily he laughed a little and shrugged to move past the subject. The spotted tail twitched a little, and Sif could imagine thet it was something similar to him swinging his legs or leaning them against the deck. The merman turned his head to look at Fandral, who was standing further away and looking at them with a questioning face.  
”You're most welcome, Sif. I'd best be on my way before one of your friends comes and asks me to.”

* * *

Everyone has probably been there. Being forced to get to know someone by chance and current circumstances. First you feel uncomfortable and a little irritated, and you can't be sure about the role you've stumbled in. If everything goes well, the feeling usually passes quickly. Though it can probably be a bad outcome as well, when suddenly all that you do becomes rather pointless. The only in thing that matters turns out to be impressing the other, and making sure that they are happy and that they're as interested in you as you are in them. And everything that they say or do becomes unbearably fascinating. Exciting. It must be a form of novelty, perhaps a little crush you just can't help.  
Merfolk are known for their fickle ways of emotion, and playing with humans is one of their strengths. Be that as it may, it is also one of their weaknesses. While wantonness protects them from heartaches it can also be the cause of them - when a merman or a mermaid feels a certain way about something, they feel strongly, quickly.

It should have been no surprise that Loki had become absorbed in the thought of her without neither of them realising it earlier.

It didn't occur to her immediately, but sooner or later she started to see it clearer. The first seeds of doubt had been planted with the singing and laughing that day, but they only rooted when he next appeared. Thor had been watching from across the deck with a light frown, he had promised Sif to keep an eye on her in case of anything odd happening.  
”I brought you something,” Loki had said with a wild smile, ignoring the blonde captain, as if he was hiding another secret. He had twisted himself up on the deck with a bit more difficulty than last time and splashed a great deal of water on Sif on his way. She had half expected to receive a jellyfish or a crab of some sort, judging by the excited grin he wore, but when she offered her hat for him to place the 'something' in, she was surprised by a clear jingling and pattering sound.  
And Loki's gifts were beautiful. For a moment the both of them just looked at each other, Loki with a pleased smirk and Sif with her mouth open like a fish.  
”Where did you get these?” she asked, staring at the pile of gemstones lying inside her hat - pieces blue amber in the rough, ranging from the size of a pearl to a chunk half as big as her fist, all shining in the sun. Loki seemed to treat them like any regular gravel.  
”I will give you two guesses,” Loki said, and Sif already suspected that his answer would have been something as enlightening as 'the ocean' or 'from down there'.  
”Do you know how precious these are?” she asked, still staring at the stones. Loki leaned against the side of the Raven and shrugged. The wound in his shoulder was already nearly healed.  
”Not really. I just thought that they're beautiful, and that I can get them from place you and your friends will never reach. So I brought some for you,” he said calmly, not quite understanding Sif's confusion, but taking some pride in it nonetheless. He smiled in a way that was new for Sif, and perhaps new for himself as well. It was milder than usual, and still a little bit warmer and more genuine than any of his previous smiles.  
His eyes were intense, but his expression was soft. A revering smirk, a pile of precious gemstones, and the almost discreet way in which Loki carefully twisted and scratched his palms, were rather clear signs of adoration. Sif nearly dropped her hat out of her hands when it hit her. The scattering of the stones was prevented by Thor's loud call, and with it disappeared Loki's smile.

”Loki, here again I see!” Thor greeted a bit louder than necessary and stole a glance at Sif. She nodded shortly, grateful for the interruption, and let out a relieved breath.  
”Here I am,” Loki ended up agreeing, and looked up at the blonde captain whose coat shone bright ruby red in the sun. ”There is a storm brewing in northeast and, naturally, I would recommend you and your friends take a safer course towards a harbour or a coast if you still could find one. By now, however, I can only warn you. And tell you to prepare for a bad weather,” the merman added in a more serious tone. Thor locked his storm-blue eyes with his, frowning. He almost thought there was a threatening tone to the warning.  
”Don't you folk raise those storms?” he asked with a huff of laughter, crossing his arms over his wide chest. Loki rolled his eyes but brushed the jab off with a forced smile.  
”Thank you for the warning, Loki, but I think that we've survived worse,” Sif spoke up.

Loki surprised both Thor and Sif by bursting up in laughter that was so loud and deep that his salmon tail curled up from the deck by the force of it all. Thor nearly flinched, and for a while he and Sif were left looking at Loki's cackling, which was difficult to call either genuine or fake.

When he calmed down, Loki jumped up on the edge of the ship, using his wiry arms and tail as leverage. He wanted to better get to eye level with Thor, for surely no one enjoyed playing the underdog for any prolonged period of time. Though perhaps he didn't need the help, for the wide and sharpened grin he wore was a good reminder of just how untrustworthy and predatory the people of the seas could sometimes be. In Thor's defence, let it be said that even though he tilted his head and lifted a curious brow, his demeanor stayed otherwise untouched by Loki's odd actions.  
”What I warn you of is no petty woe. I wouldn't come here for nothing,” Loki promised, looking at the captain from underneath his dark brows. ”I couldn't care less for what you say or what your crew think, but if ever you have trusted a word of advice, let it be this: a worse thunderstorm you have never had the luck to meet,” he said. For a while they stared at each other in silence, before Thor nodded. He reached out to clap Loki on the shoulder.  
”I guess that only means that this will be the new worst we will have endured.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I'm slow. Anyway, here's another chapter! Only two or three more to go, so we're halfway through. Maybe I'll translate the future chapters a bit quicker?
> 
> "Leave her, Johnny (Leave her)" is actually sung in regards to the ship sailors leave at the end of the journey, and the lyrics have great variation because shanties are folk songs. The best version on youtube that I've found in my opinion is [this one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HBNt3ALLcLQ) but you might also be familiar with a bit different set of lyrics if you play Assassin's Creed.


End file.
